


michael/fiona 3

by romanticalgirl



Series: December Ficlets 2007 [43]
Category: Burn Notice
Genre: F/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2013-04-15
Updated: 2013-04-15
Packaged: 2017-12-08 13:31:37
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 404
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/761883
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/romanticalgirl/pseuds/romanticalgirl
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
      <p>Originally posted 12-11-07</p>
    </blockquote>





	michael/fiona 3

**Author's Note:**

> Originally posted 12-11-07

Michael meets Fiona for the first time in a pub. She’s not his contact. His contact is lying dead at Michael’s feet in a bathroom in what Michael is relatively certain is supposed to be a set-up of embarrassing proportions. So, when she sticks her head in and drawls, “You’ll want to be coming with me,” he’s fairly certain everything’s definitely gone straight to hell.

The sound of approaching sirens only serves to reinforce that particular notion.

He follows her out of the bathroom and through the back door, heading down the alley. She slips through the rain like she’s immune to it. Michael’s soaked to the skin and he’s ruined another suit. Not to mention that his favorite jacket is now embroiled in a murder investigation with him as a prime suspect.

“You’re Michael then.”

He realizes they’ve slowed only when she stops, tugging him into another alley where the Sig Sauer she has leveled at his skull is less conspicuous. “Michael Westen.”

“Pity.”

“Why is that?”

The explosion rocks the air around them as she safeties the gun and slides it out of sight. “Because as of right now, for all intents and purposes, Michael Westen’s dead.”

“I am, am I?”

“For now it’s best we all go on believing that..”

“Pity.” He looks her over, an appraising glance that tells him her height, weight, approximate strength and where exactly she’s got the weapon hidden. Well, weapons. “Michael Westen would probably be impressed by you.”

“You’re looking for Gareth Corwin. Gareth Corwin’s looking for you. Found you, one might say.” She glances out of the alley, watching the people still running to and from the explosion, from what had been the pub where they met. “Let’s worry about the rest of it after we deal with him.”

“You’re not a friend of his?”

“Right now, I’m his girlfriend.” She smiles at Michael. “At least, he thinks I am.”

“He’s wrong about that?”

“You could say that.” She clocks him with a roundhouse kick, sending him sprawling onto the cobblestones, slumped against the stone wall. She moves over, on him almost as he hits the ground, straddling his waist and holding his hands. She kisses him almost as hard as she kicks, biting his lip until all he can feel is the pulse of blood there and in his cock. She pulls back and stands. “Stay dead, Michael Westen. I’ll be in touch."


End file.
